Thoughts on Loss & Change

July 14, 2014

I haven’t written a newsletter or update in months. I have started a few but never seem to get very far. You see, I have been struggling. And no one wants to hear that in a newsletter (at least in my estimation). Newsletters from missionaries should be full of wonderful works of the Lord and salvation stories. I don’t have any salvation stories and while I know that the Lord is wonderful and working all around me – I would feel like a fraud right now if I shared anything but the honest truth about where I have been and why so much silence.

So if I were to write a newsletter, it might go something like this …

Life stinks right now. I am lonely. I am cranky. I don’t even like myself some days. At times I feel like I might even be a little depressed. This past year has been hard. For someone who doesn’t like change, who lived in the same town for 41 years prior to moving to the DR, and who had the same job for 20 of those years – I picked the wrong vocation to move in to.

Life on the mission field is a series of hellos and goodbyes and constant, constant flux. But this past year has held too many changes, too many hard good-byes.

First, my precious friend Carole, her husband Ron and their children Anna & Sara left the field. This family loved on us and welcomed us in when we first arrived – they were our family on the field.  I love her kids and we loved spending time with their whole family. Carole was my right hand in the kitchen and she challenged and inspired me in so many ways. She has such a beautiful, humble heart and she loves others well. She is one of the most unassuming people I know.  I miss her sweet presence and quieting effect on my life.

Then Jayson and Lindsey left. They were our pastors in the truest sense of the word and cared for us when we hit a really tough spot in our transition here. Jayson is a no-nonsense, get-things-done kind of guy but he also has a tender heart and a passion for the Word of God. Lindsey opened her heart and her home to woman in our area and led Bible studies and provided lots of fun opportunities for fellowship. What an oasis that was! Whenever I left her home, I felt filled, strengthened, and encouraged. I miss their godly counsel and care.

And then Carlos died. He lived right next door to us, he was struggling, and he killed himself. It was hard walking through the months before his death and the months since. Carlos was blind but never let that stop him from working hard in our kitchen and around the base. He always walked with a broom handle to help him determine where he was and where things were. The tap, tap, tap of his stick was a constant part of life here on the base. Every time now someone taps the ground with a stick, my heart wrenches a little. And I miss his laugh. When he laughed it was a full-on belly laugh that could be heard around the base. I loved Carlos but am afraid he died not knowing how much I cared for him.

Then our dearest friends Karen & Kenny left, after one short year of being here. This woman and I share so many similarities in our pasts and also in our current lives. She “gets” me in a way that I don’t believe anyone else on this earth understands me. And we worked well together too. We both thought that we would have a long-term working relationship and were looking forward to that. Transition to the mission field from life in the States is hard but it is made easier knowing that you can share those unique struggles of transition with others. Because of our similar life stages, when I said I was missing something back home or had a heart ache over something or someone, I knew she could empathize. I miss having that comradery and I miss her wise-counsel and unique perspective on life.

And then Kim & Carlos left. Their leaving felt like the final break from what we knew when we first came here and what we felt was our support system here in Jarabacoa. Kim arrived not long after us. She had the same Spanish tutor I had in Guatemala and had heard stories of us through our tutor Sonia before even meeting us! Even though we weren’t exactly of the same generation, we had the bond of finding a godly spouse unexpectedly in life as we were bumping along being content in our “singleness.” She and Carlos are a beautiful picture of a redemptive God and I miss their fellowship and friendship.

Quite frankly, I am numb from all the hard good-byes.

So, if I were to write an update right now, this might be what I would say in it. I really wasn’t sure if I should write about this and as I write I’m not even sure I will send this out. Today the feelings are not quite as glum. I took a true Sabbath rest yesterday and I went to bed early and slept deeply. I feel refreshed today and even understood a good part of the sermon in Spanish at church this morning. I know that these feelings of loneliness and ineffectiveness aren’t necessarily unique just because I’m on the mission field. I could very easily be feeling these same feelings sitting in my living room in Florida. We all experience loss and change in our lives.

So as I reflect back on this past year of loss and change, I know that the great truth is that God is unchanging and never leaves us. No matter my circumstances, I know that He is the one true constant wherever I am. He is the great strength giver, the great comforter, and the lifter of my head. Because of who He is, when I look to Him and lean on Him, He gives me the strength I need to continue on. And those are promises I can cling to no matter where I am!

 
Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord. 1 Corinthians 15:58.